


Keep Away

by jujus_writing_corner



Series: Whumptober 2019 [25]
Category: Real Person Fiction, Youtube RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood, Bullying, Dehumanization, Dismemberment, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Trigger words, Violence, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 03:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21172307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujus_writing_corner/pseuds/jujus_writing_corner
Summary: After the events of "A Rock and a Hard Place," Bing and the Googles make a concerted effort to get along, or at least stay out of each other's way. But even the best laid plans go awry, and the peace is broken with what may be their worst fight yet.Whumptober Day 25: Humiliation





	Keep Away

**Author's Note:**

> This one's a big oof, fam. Poor Bing just can't stay on the Googles' good sides ;w;
> 
> Enjoy!

After Oliver catches his brothers in the act of bullying Bingiplier, things get better for a while. Bing tries to keep up his piece of it: He avoids the other Googles as much as he can, and tries not to aggravate them when he can’t. They’re similarly standoffish in turn, occasionally offering insulting barbs but nothing like they used to. Google ignores him completely, Plus is cold but civil, and Chrome, though clearly struggling without his sentient punching bag, is on his best behavior. Days pass and no punches are thrown, no rage-inducing remarks are said. Days turn to weeks turn to a couple months of frosty but welcome peace.

But of course it wouldn’t last.

It’s partly Bing’s fault, he’ll grudgingly admit. He’d gone into the control room looking for Oliver and only found Chrome, who was working on some sort of cannon.

“What is that?” Bing asks, unable to help being curious.

“A wide-beam particle cannon,” Chrome answers, terse but civil. Bing frowns, and the next words are out before he can stop himself.

“You mean the one that exploded in Oliver’s face a while back? Why the hell do you still have it??”

Chrome snaps his gaze away from the cannon to Bing, glaring fiercely. Both of them remember how Oliver blew half his face off trying to work through a snag in the cannon’s hardware on Chrome’s behalf. It took two weeks to fix him, during which Bing hovered over him with worry and Chrome avoided him out of guilt. Bringing it up was exactly the wrong thing for Bing to do.

“Oliver didn’t want me to get rid of it,” Chrome growls, “Besides, there’s plenty of uses for it.”

“What, like blowing someone else’s face off?” Bing snarks before he can think better of it.

Chrome stands then, getting in Bing’s face, nose-to-nose. He glares at Bing for a long moment, eyes bright red, and Bing meets his gaze, a bit nervous and mentally kicking himself but not backing down. Chrome’s expression suddenly changes into a sick grin.

“For once you have a decent idea, default,” he says.

“Wait–!”

Chrome tackles Bing to the ground before he can so much as put his hands up. Bing struggles and shoves, trying desperately not to get pinned. He lands a pretty good kick into Chrome’s side, but it only makes Chrome angrier. Before long, Chrome is able to push Bing into the ground, but Bing doesn’t stop struggling. As long as Chrome needs two hands to hold him down, he won’t be able to shoot him.

Things complicate when Plus walks in.

“What’s going on?” he asks, with a mild frown.

“He wants to fucking kill me, that’s what!!” Bing yells.

“Not kill him,” Chrome says, glaring at Bing, “Just mess him up a little.”

“Chrome, Oliver said he wanted us to leave Bing alone,” Plus points out. “Besides, you’ll get in trouble with Dark if you hurt him too badly.”

“Yeah, so let me _go!” _Bing cries. Right then, Chrome leans down on Bing, forcing him into the ground. Bing hears him swipe the particle cannon off the table and starts panicking. “Jesus fuck, dude, enough already!!”

Chrome doesn’t let up, only puts the cannon to the back of Bing’s head.

“The trigger should work correctly now,” Chrome says, “It won’t explode when I fire it, but it’ll put a hole right through your tiny stupid brain.”

“Chrome–” Plus insists.

“Are you gonna stop me or not?” Chrome asks.

Plus considers for a moment, but it’s too long for Bing. He absolutely _doesn’t_ want to die like this, and yes, he might come back, but what if he doesn’t? Bing trembles, the cannon still pushing into his hair, and decides he’s not letting this get worse.

“Okay Google Red, _let me go!!”_ he shouts.

Chrome does. He stands without control, pulls the cannon away from Bing. Bing scrambles to run off, but he’s only halfway across the room when someone grabs his arm and wrenches him back. Bing finds himself face-to-face with Plus, whose eyes are glowing vibrant green and whose expression is angrier than Bing knew he was capable of.

“Release him,” he snarls, squeezing Bing’s arm tight, just enough to not break the metal bone within. “Now.”

“Not if he’s going to shoot me!” Bing cries, “Ow, ow, fuck, let go!!”

_“You fucking first,”_ Plus growls, and Bing can’t help but cower. He’s never seen Plus like this before. Even when Plus was the one to insult him or shove him around he never got so emotional. His hand is still tight on Bing’s arm, and his eyes are bright venom green.

“Fine, fine!” Bing yells, “But you have to swear you guys won’t shoot me!!”

There’s a long pause. Bing guesses that Plus and Chrome are communicating with their own shared network, one that Bing has no access to, but Chrome can still use even in command mode. The pause gives Bing enough time to start feeling terrible for using the trigger words on Chrome. He remembers the first time he did it, how it was a complete accident and he’d let him go immediately. He’d felt sick for days afterward, not just because Google beat him into a pulp for it. He doesn’t even have the guts to turn and look at Chrome, to see the expression on his face. But he’d felt he hadn’t had a choice to use the words, and he’d still rather be a bad person than a dead person. After some moments, Plus finally seems to get an answer from Chrome.

“Alright,” he says evenly, coldly. “We swear we will not shoot you.”

“Okay Google Red, end command mode,” Bing gasps.

Plus doesn’t release Bing’s arm, and Bing hears running footsteps coming towards him. He has just enough time to close his eyes before Chrome punches him in the side of the face, so hard it knocks him down. He falls awkwardly, losing his footing despite Plus still holding his arm in a vice grip. But a moment later, as Bing is still dazed from the blow, he feels Plus hand his arm off to Chrome, whose hand is much hotter, burning with barely suppressed rage. Plus, meanwhile, gets down to Bing’s level and pushes him down, holding down Bing’s other arm and forcing down the shoulder of the arm Chrome is holding up. Chrome plants a sneakered foot in the middle of Bing’s back, and Bing coughs as his dizziness starts to fade. The whole thing happens in seconds, and Bing can barely keep up.

“What the–” he gasps.

“We promised not to shoot you,” Plus says, cold.

“And we won’t,” Chrome says, voice shaking with hatred. “But you’re not getting away with this.”

“What–” Bing starts, but is cut off when Chrome yanks his arm, _hard._

Bing howls with pain, kicking his legs and trying to get off the ground, but Plus’s arms and Chrome’s foot keep him pinned. The first strong pull of Bing’s arm pops it right out of its socket, but Chrome doesn’t stop there. He pulls harder, harder, Bing can hear him breathing through gritted teeth, and Plus pushes down on Bing’s shoulder to provide help. Bing keeps screaming, he can’t do anything but scream. The synthetic skin of his arm begins to rip from the force, oil starts leaking from the gaps, and Bing feels tears on his face but he can’t make them stop coming. Metal creaks and groans and wires snap, sending jolts of pain through Bing’s shoulder. He can’t move his fingers on that arm anymore, and he starts losing more and more feeling as his arm is torn away. Finally, the whole thing gives, coming away from Bing’s shoulder with an almighty _crunch,_ and oil pours out from the wound left behind.

Plus lets Bing go and gets up, and Chrome takes his foot off Bing’s back. But Bing stays on the floor, panting as the gaping wound at his shoulder throbs, pulsing oil out onto the floor. He’s not screaming anymore, but he’s still crying.

“Are you going to get up?” Plus asks Bing. He kicks his side. Bing gasps but the blow feels like a poke compared to the agony radiating through his shoulder.

“If he’s just gonna lay there,” Chrome says, “Let’s play a game.”

“What game?”

“Keep-away.” Chrome’s grin is practically audible. “Catch!”

“No, guys, please–” Bing groans, making himself get up. It’s an effort with only one arm to push himself up. He feels a whoosh of air above his head as he stands, and lifts his head in time to see his own detached, limp arm sail through the air into Plus’s hands.

Bing makes to reach for his arm with his remaining one, but Plus tosses the arm back to Chrome. Bing’s slower than the Googles on a good day, and with the pain and oil loss slowing him down further, he doesn’t have a hope of catching his own arm out of the air. Chrome laughs, a mean, barking cackle as he catches Bing’s arm and throws it back to Plus. Bing helplessly turns back to him, but Plus grins, too, returning the arm through the air to Chrome. They do this for a minute or two, tossing the limb between them, but to Bing, it feels like forever. Shame turns his cheeks orange, and sobs stick in his throat as he begs for his arm back.

“Come on, give it back, _please,”_ he whimpers, trying desperately not to burst into bawling wails.

“What do you think?” Plus asks, tossing the limb to Chrome once more. “Do you think it’s been long enough?”

“Fine,” Chrome says, catching the arm. When Bing turns to him, he shoves the limb into his chest, and Bing grabs at it with his good arm, nearly dropping it. Chrome leans in close to Bing’s face, and Bing cowers, whimpering. Chrome’s gaze is stony but far away. “Now you know how it fucking feels to be helpless.” He turns away from Bing then, storming off back to the table he was working at where his particle gun still sits.

“What the hell now?” Bing asks, not sure which Google he’s talking to. “When Oliver finds out what happened–”

“He won’t,” Plus says, calm but with ever-glowing eyes. “You’re going to tell him you got attacked by a human, or that you fell off your skateboard, or something else. You came up here, couldn’t find him, and went back to your room to wait for him. That’s why there’s oil here.”

“He’ll never fall for that!” Bing protests.

“He will, if you’re convincing enough.”

“Why the hell should I tell him that anyway??” Bing shouts, nearly screams, “Why should I lie to him and not tell him that you guys held me down and ripped my arm off!?”

“Because if you don’t tell Oliver that we pulled your arm off,” Plus says, stepping closer, threatening, “We won’t tell him that you used our command words on Chrome.”

Any further protest dries up in Bing’s throat. If Oliver ever found out that Bing did that to his brother, he might never forgive him. Bing realizes that this must be what Plus and Chrome discussed through their network earlier; the best form of revenge, and how to get away with it.

“You keep your secret, we’ll keep ours, and Oliver gets to keep thinking we’re doing better,” Plus continues. “And we will do better. You, specifically, will do better.”

Bing wants to retort, but nothing he could say matters. They both did wrong. Bing can’t tell them off after he used Chrome’s command words. He has no leg to stand on – or, rather, no arm to hold himself up.

“Fine,” Bing says instead, voice rough from crying. He turns to leave, trudging to the control room door, detached arm cradled to his chest. He’d go faster if he could, but he’s exhausted and in pain and thoroughly miserable.

He spares a glance behind him before he goes, and sees Chrome still standing at the work table. Even from across the room, Bing can see his trembling. Plus is beside him, rubbing his back with one hand and gently squeezing his arm with the other. He pulls Chrome into his arms to hug him, but Chrome doesn’t react, doesn’t lift his arms to hug back or lay his head in Plus’s shoulder. He just keeps trembling as Plus tries to soothe him. Plus meets eyes with Bing, and he glares, eyes still shining an angry neon green.

Bing knows, deep in his gut, that this is far from over.

He shudders and turns away from Plus’s furious gaze, leaving the control room and shutting the door behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually sorry about this one, all three of these boys need a chill pill and a hug ;m;


End file.
